Desert
by lewdness
Summary: They would do anything for their Princess. Vossler/Ashe/Basch


**Title**: Desert  
**Rating**: M  
**Pairing**: Vossler/Ashe/Basch  
**Fandom**: FFXII (yes, really)  
**Summary**: They would do anything for their Princess.  
**Word Count: **2741  
**Notes**: I...really enjoyed writing this. It was written all in one go with no beta, save for myself, so there's probably errors. Either way, I really had fun writing it and I'm...really happy with how it came out, actually. How many of you guys read FFXII stuff anyway? I should add that there's **spoilers past Nalbina Fortress**. This doesn't really have any set place in the timeline, I just...wanted to write porn.

000

He's lost track how many days they've been under the beating, oppressive heat of the sun, lost track of how long it's been since they laid in proper beds, not their ratty, worn sleeping cots stuck on the heat-dried ground. One would think that he would be used to such hardships after such a time, especially with Nalbina, but even he, a battle-hardened warrior, appreciated the warmth and softness of a proper bed.

"I shall take first watch," Ashe says, voice low and soft while Penelo and Vaan giggle over by the fire, the boy tugging at one of her pigtails and flailing when she hits him for it. Raising an eyebrow, Basch simply sits there, his hand ever on his sword. "...I said I could take-"

From off to the side, leaning against a boulder, Vossler laughs, voice rougher from the dryness of the desert. "Aye, Princess, he heard you, though you should know that he always takes first watch in hopes of letting the rest sleep the night away." Amused, he shifted, stretching his legs out while the woman glanced between the two of them, lips twisted into a slight frown. "Rest tonight; we'll handle it this night."

Perhaps a few years ago she would have listened; she was younger, quieter, and always obeyed what Vossler and Basch had to say. This was not a few years ago, however, it was now, and now, she was tired after a day of walking through nothing but sand, feeling nothing but sand everywhere around her. "Sleep will not find me tonight," she admits finally, closer to the truth than she would have liked, and she hates that she sees realization on their faces in that moment. Scowling, she sits herself down between the two men, forcing them to make room for her as she did when she was a child, sorely tempted to just sit on their laps as she did when she was even younger, if only to see the mortified looks on their faces. "I'm not a child."

Basch hums quietly under his breath, watching the last edges of the sun sink past the horizon, leaving naught but tendrils in its wake. "Indeed you are not," he muses, quiet, not missing the critical look that Vossler sends him in return, as if chiding him for his potentially careless words. "Yet even you need your sleep, Princess."

Pressed quietly between the two, shoulder to shoulder to shoulder, Ashe just shakes her head, and stares off against the horizon, at the shadows. "I said, I'm not tired," she says, and there's a little less nobility and a little more petulance in her voice this time. She's more tired than she likes to think, if she's acting this childish, Ashe thinks bitterly.

"M'lady," Basch starts quietly, gaze flicking over her once to make sure she is well, frowning. "The sun..."

As if noticing it for the first time, she presses her fingers to her cheeks, finding them warmer and the slightest bit pained. Quick, soft touches to her arms and shoulders find the same reaction, and draw the same conclusion; she's sunburnt. Lovely. "There should be lotion in the packs," she says tiredly, drawing her knees up and pressing her forehead to them, frustrated at her carelessness. She ought to have listened to Balthier when he had commented on "her Highness' lily-white skin should be further protected", and not just laughed at the way both Vossler and Basch bristled as if he had suggested she do lewd things with him in front of an audience. Somehow, Ashe suspected both guards thought it likely of the pirate to suggest at least once.

"I shall retrieve it," Vossler says, standing with what's always been a strange amount of grace for one so large and tall, grasping her bag and bringing it back so she can look for it, taking note of the fact that the rest of the camp seems to have fallen asleep around the barely glowing embers of their fire. Quietly he places three more logs on, watching the way Balthier opens one eye, then closes it and rolls onto his back, and the way that Fran's ear twitches from her position on her blanket. (Vossler suspects that it is Balthier's blanket under that, as the viera looked far too smug that night, and Balthier himself is rather stiff looking.)

While Vossler does that, Basch keeps sneaking glances at her shoulders, trying to see how bad it is until finally, she sighs and starts working at the buckles on her bracers, listening to Vossler move around, the quiet creak of his leather comforting. Soon her arms are bare, and she's left to fiddle with the collar of her neck-guard, cursing quietly under her breath when she can't quite get the right angle. Her fingers are red and sore from practicing with a bow, and Fran, for all her patience, is a tough teacher.

"Let me?" Basch asks quietly, just as Vossler sits down next to them again, letting her take her satchel. She nods, tilting her head back a little and baring her throat for him, trying not to shiver when his fingers ghost over the smooth skin of her throat, unfastening the guard and gently letting it fall to the ground. She's a Princess, not a wanton slut, who can't control her urges. Opening her eyes again, she fiddles with the satchel, forcing it open and trying not to look at Basch after whispering her thanks, digging out the lotion.

"If...m'lady would allow me to aid her," Vossler says quietly, carefully, avoiding Basch's gaze for this moment while Ashe shifts her attention from the bottle to him, nodding slowly.

She's no fool; Balthier has made many not-so-subtle allusions to just how much "her men" wanted to protect her, all the while smiling ever so sweetly, baiting her just because he could. At one point, he had flat-out asked her, that silver-sharp smirk on his face, inquiring if there were previous arrangements-- before her late husband, of course. He'd half expected a slap; she had given him a solid punch to the jaw, and stalked away, giving no reply to the viera's subtle smile and incline of her head as she went over to her fallen partner, far too amused.

"Princess Ashe?"

Ashe's head lifts; she's been silent for too long. Forcing a smile on her face, she nods, then frowns at the patterns of sunburn on her skin. There are pale white parts where her bracers and gauntlets protected her, though the rest is an angry shade of red. "I apologize," she murmurs, allowing Vossler to take the lotion, uncapping it with a quiet snap.

"You'd do well to take her to the oasis over there," Balthier comments from behind them, rising up out of his bed and gently draping his blanket over Fran's lanky body, stretching out and stepping over where Vaan and Penelo lay. "I will take first watch, or you'll keep me up all night with your...chatter."

Instantly Ashe lays gentle hands on both Vossler's and Basch's arms to stay their bristling and growling at the implications, not quite sure what to make of that flutter of nervousness in her belly, simply inclining her head and standing, offering her hands to the men. They pause, and Basch is the first to take it, Vossler soon following and nothing more is said as Balthier takes the watch position and they head off to the oasis, none of them having raised the point that really, only Ashe needed have gone. It's only a brief walk away, perhaps ten minutes at the most, and instantly she's stripping off her boots and dipping her feet into the cool water, beckoning them to come closer.

"My lady," Vossler says quietly, grasping for words when he has naught else to say. He knows what he should say, but those words don't seem to come. Instead, "I...will you require help?"

And just like that, everything clicks into place. Basch crouches next to where she sits, gently taking the lotion from her, squirting some into his hand and rubbing his palms together after brushing them of sand, and then slowly, oh so slowly, rubbing his hands over her shoulders, spreading the cool lotion across her skin gently. Vossler takes a moment, stripping his hands of gloves, bracers, everything that's unneeded and crouches as well, startled when Ashe tugs him close and swallows any protests he might have with a kiss, soft and sweet, while Basch oh so gently starts sliding his hands down her arms, sliding lotion over her skin.

There is no talk of Rasler, no questioning from Basch at just how Vossler knows where to touch his Princess, just how to untangle and unsnap her outfit, just how to strip her and bare her and touch her. Basch simply moves as instructed, letting his Princess lean back against his chest, brushing kisses down her throat while Vossler starts to work on his own clothing. "Would it please my Princess...?" he asks quietly, and Ashe nods quickly, back arching a little when Basch's hands trail to her throat and slide down her front, skimming along the line her shirt cuts against her breasts. They both watch Vossler strip down to nothing, and Basch lets out a soft breath when the man slides into the water, and tugs Ashe's legs apart, large hand sliding up the softness of her thighs, parting them after lifting her skirt and shifting her underwear. "Would it please my Princess?" he asks again, somewhere against the inside of her thigh, waiting for her response.

"It would," Ashe whispers, and gasps when Vossler presses his mouth to her, finding her already damp, already wanting, and starts working that eloquent mouth of his, hands keeping her thighs pushed apart. Basch moves then, hands sliding to her stomach, still a little slick from the lotion, sliding up her waist and gently, hesitantly almost, cups her breasts and swallows her throaty gasp with his own mouth.

"I would ask some help of you," Vossler says after a moment, lifting his head, and Basch lets out a hoarse groan when Ashe strains against him, whispering for more. "Perhaps you could hold m'lady still, else we may not return in time for second watch."

Inclining his head a little, Basch's hands slide back down, pressing to her waist to hold her hips still, amused when she still tries to strain against them and doesn't get very far at all. He doesn't have to look to know when Vossler goes back to what he was doing; Ashe lets out a strangled noise, and her hips jerk minutely. Shushing her, as it wouldn't do to have Penelo or Vaan come looking for them, Basch starts brushing kisses against her throat once more, She seems to like whatever Vossler does down there, getting progressively louder, straining harder and trembling when the dark-haired man lets out a low, pleased laugh and pulls back. "M'lady, you should quiet yourself," he chides gently, and shivers when Ashe takes Basch's hand, and slides two of his fingers into her mouth, sucking lightly on them.

"Gods," Basch rasps, using his free hand to hold her still, grinding against her back before he catches what he's doing, refusing to rut against her like a wild animal, instead letting her work her mouth as she pleases, finding those muffled, desperate whimpers more and more arousing. He holds her gently when she comes, feeling her tense up, listening to her breathing hitch and slide out of her with a quiet keen, watches her thighs shake under Vossler's large hands, and feels her go still after a moment, languid with orgasm. "We should head back, m'lady," he whispers gruffly against the nape of her neck, shivering when she lets him withdraw his fingers, nipping softly at them. "We've a long walk ahead of us in the morning."

"What of you two?" Ashe asks in return, and her voice is thick with exhaustion, both from walking since dawn as well as Vossler's ever-so-talented mouth. "You haven't..."

Vossler laughs, lower and more pleased than his normal one, and Ashe is pleased to find she isn't the only one who shivers, looking up at him through lidded eyes. "There are other times for our pleasure, Princess," he answers, climbing out of the water and daringly crawling over her so she's pressed between the two of them, kissing Basch hard and listening to her faint, soft noise of shock at watching them.

What sort of queen would she be, though, she thinks absently, if she didn't return favors that were given to her? It's that logic that makes her reach out, both hands stroking along the hardness of Vossler's cock, pleased when the man hisses quietly, trembling. "I should like to return the favor," she murmurs, and kisses a scar on his shoulder, sliding her tongue along it and tasting the vague hint of leather and water from the oasis. "It would be unfair of us to forget Captain Basch, as well, though..."

And oh, that sort of daring gets a soft nip at her throat from Basch, who tugs at her lightly, both men seemingly working without words to turn her on her hands and knees, so she can rest her cheek on Basch's thigh, and Vossler can slide his hands down the curve of her ass, two fingers pressing into the slickness of her.

It takes very few moments for her to unlace the blond man's breeches, and even less for her to draw out his cock, unsurprised to find it firm and the tip slick with pre-come, and it only makes sense for her to lap at it gently, of course.

Basch knows the exact moment Vossler slides into her, not by the flex of his muscles, nor by his groan, but by the way Ashe lets out the most delicious fucking noise ever, and looks up at him, her face slack with pleasure and need and hellfire, he won't last long if she does that. Carefully, he twines one hand in her hair, directing her down to his cock, groaning when she nuzzles it and starts lapping gently at it, only able to fit the first few inches into her mouth before she finds it too much to take with Vossler doing something with his hips that makes her melt.

Next time, he vows, eyes fixed on Vossler's as the man starts to fuck their Princess, slow, firm moves that every so often rip gasps out of her throat and force her head down just a bit more. Next time, he'll last, and he won't come so embarrassingly quickly, though it's comforting that Ashe just strokes him till he's finished, swallowing what he can and not minding the rest as it streaks her lips and cheeks and chin, while Vossler picks up his pace, fucking her harder and quicker as he gets closer as well.

Basch's lips curl into a smile when Ashe comes again, just a breathy, sharp noise of shock as she trembles, and Vossler gets that look in his eyes, the one he got when he bested an opponent, or performed a difficult task, the one that said he was proud and pleased.

They all wait a moment before moving again; Ashe's still catching her breath, and Vossler is just touching her, while Basch strokes his Princess' hair reverently. Vossler slides back into the water, beckoning them to follow and they don't bother to remove their clothes; they'll dry at dawn, as that's when the heat rolls over the desert, and there is always body heat to make up for the chill of the night. It feel good for Ashe, anyway, the coolness welcome against the heat of her sunburn, and quietly, Vossler offers her his shirt for tomorrow, to ensure the burns to do not get worse.

None of them say anything when it's Fran taking watch when they return, nor does she do anything but glance at them, impassive. "I will take the remainder of the night," she says, as if knowing that none of them are up for doing anything other than sleeping from that point on. They don't argue, simply stretching out on the bedrolls with Ashe in the middle, and fall asleep in moments, sleeping until morning.

00

Haha, first time writing them. :) Let me know what you think?


End file.
